The History of Loki Laufeyson
by greenie23
Summary: Diary format of all the escapades and misadventures of Loki Laufeyson. From his birth to an undetermined time. Read if you dare. {Not for the faint-hearted fan.}
1. Chapter 1

Part One: A Foolish Prince

Years ago, more than I care to count, there was the birth of a small frost giant child. The only complication was that he was born out of wedlock, between a commoner and a king, in the middle of war. His mother, later identified as Farbauti fled to the local temple, terrified that the father would learn of his birth. She received sanctuary, but when Odin Allfather destroyed the Jotun's army, the wardens of the temple fled. In her despair, Farbauti left the child behind, knowing that death would be better for him then the life she would have to give him.

But her plan went awry.

Instead of destroying the temple as anticipated, the mighty Odin saw fit to extract the artifacts inside it; including the Casket of Eternal Winter. It was in doing this that he found the child, yelling heartily upon the altar steps. And it was then that Odin did something that was never exposed, until now. He put a spell on the child, binding him to an Asgardian form. The All-father did this, wanting the boy to grow up and eventually be an ambassador between the worlds. This bond was in-perceivable to even the strongest wielders of magic; and thus Loki Odinson was born.

Until reaching the age of 17, I remained blissfully un-aware of any difference of status between me and Thor, the true prince of Asgard. In fact, it was my belief that because of my light complexion and dark hair, I was a freak of nature. Thus I employed every conceivable way of proving myself to Odin and Frigga, whom I foolishly referred to as "Father" and "Mother". But, even though I excelled in all subjects that called for even small amounts of intelligence, Thor easily outshone me in all feats of strength. And, just my luck, Asgardians loved nothing more than a good fist-fight. So Thor was always in the public eye, while Loki stayed well hidden in his shadow.

Thus, I became accustomed to the crushing feeling of loneliness at a very young age. I was shunned by all, since my hobbies were all "academically inclined". It was only Thor who tried to include me in anything at all; but he usually only made a bad situation worse by humiliating me. But even then, I blamed myself:

"Idiot, no-one pays any attention to you because you're such a weakling. Go into that training room and prove that you're stronger than you let on."

It was thus that I convinced myself to give fighting a try. But I was too young; Thor himself only took up weapons at age 15. Like the gullible fool I was, I took someone's advice and tried a sword out. My grip slipped, allowing the heavy sword to take a reasonable chunk out of my head; it was that day I gained the scar on my right temple. I ended up in the healing ward for a week. Thor was at my bedside alternating between laughing at me, and crying for me. I hated him in those days; loathing his very presence, every word he spoke sending bile to my throat. Of course, Thor took my silence as a sign of embarrassment, and he tried to comfort me as best as he knew how:

"It's not your fault Brother, that guard was a phony. Why I'll challenge him to a duel and invite all of Asgard. When I win, you can take heart in seeing him crushed!" I just smiled wanly and wished him away.

After I finally got out of there I avoided him as if he were Hel herself. I nursed my hate, and took comfort in the pain of my solitude; training with Frigga in the magic arts. Though, I spent most of my time in the library, where Thor never set foot unless it was absolutely necessary. It became my refuge, and it was there that I found the book. The book did not have any title, but was objectively the largest volume we had. It was situated 10 floors up, in a corner that, judging by the cobwebs, had not been visited in years. I nearly broke my neck taking that thing down, and looking back, it would have been better for me if I had; better for the world. But I got it down, and promptly commenced reading it. At first, the runes were completely incomprehensible. But gradually, I figured them out, and as I did, the book came alive. At each `waypoint` or chapter, I learnt something new, something horrible. More often than not, it was a description of a black mage or thief that had every gruesome detail, of every abhorrent deed. Half the time, my underdeveloped brain couldn't actually store this data properly; in other words, I was too young to be reading this. But nevertheless, my good sense fled me each time I opened the thing. Eventually after several months of sleepless nights spent entirely in the library, I read aloud a spell that caused something in me to change. I no longer felt the need to eat, or sleep. My basic needs were taken away, and in their place was an unspeakable hunger for bloodshed. I had, simply put transformed myself into a wraith. This at last woke up screaming sirens inside me, and I recoiled from the book in horror. I gazed at my now translucent hands in shock. It is unnecessary to write down the details, but after a long, horrific and bloody search, I gained the proper ingredients for the potion which would return me my, um, "tangible" aspect. It included:

The eye of a fanged frog, the incisors of a cobra, the legs of a black widow spider, the hair of a female warrior (Sif never quite forgave me; she used to have golden hair you see), the tears of a giant and the blood of 3 different races of people.

As you may imagine, the acquiring of these substances was very challenging due to my spectral form, I could not touch or grab anything! The only thing I could do was speak. So I quickly developed a silver tongue and the ability to tell when people were lying. Long story short, I came out of that knee-deep in debt, very street-wise, and an extremely practiced lie-smith.

Still to this day, eating and drinking are mostly superfluities to me. Though later I would re-gain the hunger aspect, but for something entirely different from food.

After this, I was more careful about that book, and referred to it only when I was looking for extra power in my spells (I had acquired quite an affinity for magic and a zeal for spells).

Thus began my teenage life, at age 12. Everything accomplished before this was done so either by accident or through the hands of a helpful (yet costly) acquaintance. At age 12, I started becoming what I am now. I did things for myself and by myself. I gained a keen sense of my surroundings, and I knew when and how to lie well. I also knew how to manipulate people's minds. As a final addition, probably most importantly, I learnt how to stay out of Heimdell's sights. I used this skill for all times I was outside the castle.

At age 12, I acted on the knowledge I had gained while searching for the ingredients for that potion. I was no longer an innocent, misguided boy. I was now becoming a fully aware and ruthless man.

A good example of how I had developed came when I was merely 14:

I was walking down an alleyway to my usual study place, when I was accosted by a figure draped in black. Upon quick evaluation, he was a man of around 28, with an ill-placed self-assurance. His hands were clumsily concealing a poisoned knife and his stance was an aggressive one. I quickly cloned myself and slipped behind him, invisible; I used that trick a lot. He lunged at my copy, which dodged expertly. Cursing, he swung out with his fist, and anticipating my clone`s duck, used his other hand to stab at its stomach with the knife. You can imagine his surprise when he sliced through air, and the next second felt himself pinned to the ground with a dagger to his back.

"P-Please, sir. I am only `doin what I was sent to do." He practically squeaked. Smirking, I replied:

"I observed this. And you did quite an inadequate job of it too. Your Master will be ill pleased no doubt. Though, I can see to it that he never hears back from you."

"N-No! Please sir, I got chil`un at home, and the wife'll be torn to bits if I die!"

His eyes radiated fear and remorse, and back then, it pricked my soft side.

"Well, let me consider this. Either I silence you, and not worry about any further attempts on my life, or I let you go back whining to a master who will un-doubted send either you or someone else back. I trust you see my predicament. Still, I am not a person without mercy, if you bring me to your Master`s abode, I`ll see what I can do for you."

"Y-You`d really do that sir? Oh bless you!"

"Yes well, get up before I change my mind." I said, but only half my heart was in it. I was, comparatively speaking, very mellow at the time.

With that, he scrambled up and scurried off down the alley, with me in hot pursuit. Eventually, we came to a blank wall in the farthest reaches of Asgard. It was a bad part of town, where, at that time of my life, I would never have been seen in any type of recognizable attire. Nevertheless, the man or creature in front of me was bobbing and bowing to me, babbling on about how he'd get the door open if I'd just wait here a minute.

"Silence! Do you not think I recognize a mage's door when I see one? Step aside."

I then proceeded to open the door in front of me; it was quite simple, even then, I had a powerful grip over the arcane.

"Shall you lead me, or are you too slow to do so?" I inquired, with no amount of patience.

"Of course sir, right this way."

We proceeded down a large hallway, at the end of which was another door, considerably small compared to the one we just came through, but we crossed it, into what seemed to be a very small elevator. My companion spoke some incomprehensible words to a small panel, and I felt a jolt of motion. Then all was silent. We stood there waiting for several minutes. In this time I felt my companion growing more and more uneasy in my presence; I had mixed feeling about this. Later in my life though, I'd learn to embrace the effect I had on people.

When the doors opened at last, the room outside was different. It was considerably small, and dingy; mentally, I crossed off all the nobles I knew on my suspects list. Behind me the man had shrank towards the wall, and I became aware of another presence in the room. I whirled on my heel to face this new person or creature. The sight that met me was admittedly, not what I was expecting. I was expecting some older fat man who would have a booming voice and a way of intimidating people. Instead, I was faced with a woman. Not a bad looking one either. She was about 25 and wore a rather skimpy dress. The man behind us was very plainly terrified of her though. I grinned and strode towards her, but she quickly stopped me by virtue of cold steel firmly pressed against my chest.

"Why is he still alive?" She inquired, blatantly ignoring me and instead boring into the man with her eyes.

"H-he got away Mistress; ther waren't anything I could'a done about it. He was aimin' to kill me, but he said I could live if I brought him to ya."

"Well Olaf, it would have made no difference. Your mission was to kill him, or die trying. And you did neither. I suppose you can see the problem here."

Her voice caused his resolve and confidence to crumble, and all he could manage was a paltry:

"Y-Yes mistress."

She was un-relenting, and to an untrained eye, she seemed completely void of emotion towards the man. But I could tell; she was causing herself pain with every condemning word. She longed to cast her vicious mask aside and forgive the man. I spoke up then.

"So Olaf, this is your wife?"

The man's eyes bulged

"Why, yes. That she is, but how in Helheim did you know that?"

I smirked.

"I have my ways." To be a Telepath was a truly wonderful thing.

Her eyes were on me now, drilling into mine. I returned her gaze steadily, something she obviously was un-accustomed to. After several seconds, her look faltered, and she turned away. I pounced on this chance to dominate the conversation.

"Why in all of Valhalla did you want me dead? I have no recollection of ever seeing you in my life. Was it something by cause and effect, or are you simply trying to prove something by killing a Prince of Asgard?"

She swallowed hard, looking at anything but my eyes.

"I'm only doing what I was told."

I was slightly taken aback, another superior? These sort of efforts usually only went to two members. The less that are in on it, the less to keep silent afterward; I knew this first hand.

"You have an overlord too then? Is it another woman like yourself or are you under the dominion of a man?"

I could have sworn she killed me mentally then.

"Yes, I have a master. But no, I'll not tell you who or where he is. It's bad enough that you got this far. Now I'll have to finish you myself."

With that she launched a series of highly predictable attack sequences, which I avoided with ease. Much to her consternation, I simply wouldn't hold still. After a few minutes of her futile attempts to pin me, I decided that I had had enough. Doing the least expected thing, I grabbed the sword by the blade, and she became painfully aware of how blunt the thing really was. I used it to pull her straight towards me; my favourite tactic. I grabbed her arm, and twisting it cruelly, forcing her into reverse arm lock, causing her to stand but inches away from my face. She tried quite desperately to withdraw from this compromising position, but with each squirm, I drew her closer. Now with barely one inch separating us, I quickly ducked my head to her ear and whispered softly:

"You would do well to not deny a prince darling."

With that I gave her arm another vicious twist and heard a satisfying crack. She screamed in agony, gripping her arm which now had bone protruding from it. I dropped her and turned on my heel walking towards the elevator. Looking behind me, I said to her:

"Tell your master, that I'm interested in working for him. If he'll accept me, that is." With that, I entered that lift and was gone from their sight.

Now one must understand that I made that offer completely assured that the master above them was the one who controlled them both. I knew that for some reason or another, he wanted me dead. Thus, I would do the un-expected; I would "join" him and then dispose of them at a later point. I have never been so wrong in my life.

The details of how I hit rock bottom on the honor scale are gruesome and unnecessary. I'll bring it all to a quick synopsis:

The deal I made turned out to be more that I had bargained for. I was accepted, but soon learnt that the man above me was simply one lowly underling in a long chain of masters and students. So many in fact, that he had never even laid eyes on the highest superiors. Instead, he got orders from his master daily, and when necessary, he delegated some of his work to me. I had no student; I was at the utter bottom of things. But I did learn a few things:

This syndicate was called the Dragon's Order.

Not to mess around with orders.

If I could kill my master, I would take his place, and a recruit would be placed under me.

This organization taught not only how to be an effective killer, but also how to effectively influence people, without harming them.

It was that very month that I committed my first murder; my master, naturally. It was satisfying to say the least, and I experienced no remorse or trauma. I liked it.

With that buffoon out of the way, I now had a "student". It happened to be a young adult, who was rather incensed that a 14 year old was above him. I cannot count the times I would have taken great pleasure in ripping his throat out. But he was a good study, and never failed me. Thus I dealt with him, instead of taking the easy way out. I trained him, and he sharpened my reflexes by virtue of countless attempts on my life.

This chain of events carried on for three years. In this time, I had gained much ground in the chain of authority. I had as many as 3000 below me. Thus as I began to reach the upper levels, I also began to be more and more introverted and psychotic; mostly for my own safety, at the expense of my sanity. As I look back, it was my own fault; I was even more reticent than I had ever been. And at age 17, I was very … Popular with women. I used this to my advantage. I used everything to my advantage. My whole drive became getting to the top, for I knew I would; and let nothing get in my way. Though to be fair, I was spurred on by people around me constantly putting me down; No-one believed I'd ever amount to anything. All I ever heard was discouragement. Stop trying Loki; just do what you're told. They all just let me know how far I'd not go. They were slowly washing away my colors, robbing me of every defining character traits; slowly making me insignificant. Who are you to change the world, silly boy? But inside, I felt something growing, getting restless. A beast, snarling at each insult, and gnawing at the chains society had set around it; and I had the key. But at that age, I was terrified of what might happen if I let it loose. So for now, I hid myself below many layers of introversion and intelligence; I was exactly what each person wanted me to be. For now.

Back in the Palace, Frigga fretted over my constant absence. I came home one night very tired and slightly torn up from an escapade into the wilderness of Niflheim trying to find an artifact of power. I succeeded of course, but had taxed my strength reserves greatly. I felt ready to fall off my own feet, but Frigga accosted me:

"I wish you'd stay at home for just one night! Loki, you worry me."

I flinched at hearing my name used. I had grown so accustomed to Master or Student.

Sighing, I replied:

"Mother, you worry entirely too much. I'm fine aren't I? I've never been away from home for more than two nights!"

"Yes, but do you honestly think that helps a mother's worries? I can't sleep those nights that you're away."

And even though I faced what seemed to be the denizens of Hel herself every day, and made myself more calloused with each passing hour; I still held a soft spot in my heart for that kind woman. I mentally cursed myself and spoke yet another shameless lie:

"Mother, I'm sorry. I just need to get away from the palace. Thor's friends have been so overbearing. I'll stay home now though, and I trust you'll sleep?"

My mother smiled, foolishly believing her "son". But her smile was slightly off; I didn't know why. I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Yes Loki, I'm sorry they've bothered you so much."

"Yes well, I'm certainly used to it."

There was pain in her eyes then, and I felt something that had become quite alien to me. I felt a sharp prick of remorse. Shoving it aside, I gave her a half-hearted smile, and then walked off, in a mental turmoil. I hated myself for my weakness, and yet I could not seem to shake the warm feelings concerning her. This tore me in two, and I hated myself all the more for the indecision. To top it off, I was mentally and physically exhausted.

It was in this condition that I retired to my room for another sleepless night of spells and tomes; sleep no longer gave me rest, as devils and monsters haunted my dreams. Magic was my only source of relaxation. I had by this time, created a transport circle which connected to the library. Thus I whiled away the night's hours reading, long after the doors were barred to all others; I hadn't actually slept for years. It was in these ever more frequent times of solitude that I heard the voices.

I recognized them as my own, but I knew my mouth was not moving. Yet I heard them as clear as if Thor had bellowed in my ear. There was little choice but to listen to myself argue with me; and though at this point it seemed second-nature, some deep part of me was extremely disturbed in a forbidding way. That night's argument went something like this:

"Fool, weakling and coward! You need to get rid of her! She's weakening you, and you know it!"

"Oh do shut up! I can't do that, I-Its illogical! She's the queen, and if she was to die, and I identified as the killer, all Hel would break loose! Besides, she means well!"

"There you go again, you and your ceaseless logic! Oh yes, she means well. That's what you'll say until you're too soft to function properly. I've gotten you this far, and I'm not giving up on you now. I say you kill all of them, and just be done with it.

"Alright, that's just insane. Now would you mind telling me, how in Fenrir's name would we ever get away with that!?"

"That's not my problem. You're the one who strategizes. I set the objectives, and see that they get carried out."

"Yes, well not this time. Not yet at least. It's much too risky, and I'm not in any position to cover for us well. Not all at once. Be patient, I'll get you your chance. Just wait."

"Well hurry it up a little. Each day you wait is a day lost."

"Alright I get your point, now go back to sleep."

With that, the aggressive voice was gone, and the other died away. I shook my head to clear the trance and took up my book again.

It's not without some mirth that I write this section. In this segment, I explain the true motives and turnout of what countless people already know of: The death of Loki Odinson. So if you're still alive and reading this, try to put behind you whatever conclusions you may have drawn about my episode of seeming madness before I was lost to the world in the abyss.

I was 17, going on 18 in a month, when I was jarred from my spell book by the grating voice of my frost giant student. (I was at this point, still un-aware of my true heritage.)

"Master, I think you'll want to know that The All-Father is crowning Thor king of Asgard tomorrow morning."

I was stunned. Yes, I may have been absent from the castle a lot, but not enough so as to pass up the word of this coming event. I was un-prepared to accept my loathsome brother as King, besides. I had other plans, which required Odin to be on the throne. This had to be postponed.

I looked at my student sharply.

"You're sure of this?"

"Yes sir, I got the information while watching and listening to the royal family as you requested."

"Very good, you may leave."

With that he was gone, and I was left in a panic of destroyed plans. The voices came in force, causing a splitting pain in my head. I crumpled to my knees, hands over my ears to try and lessen the pain.

"I knew it! You waited too long! You and your STUPID studies! You need to take ACTION! NOW!"

"Alright! I suppose it was too long a postponing. I'll figure something out, just please, lower your tone."

"NO! I will NOT! You need to learn something, and you need to learn it right NOW: Waiting too long to do something inevitable, will ALAWYS lead to FAILURE! Now KILL THEM ALL! Go to that coronation, wait till the right moment, and DESTROY ALL PRESENT!, to Hel with all consequences!"

"I can't do that! Not yet! Wait, just a little more time! I'll figure it out! Please! Give me one more day!"

"Not a chance. It's been long enough! Now get me in there!"

"Enough."

This time there was a third voice. My own, I felt my lips moving. I was talking.

"What!?" cried the aggressor.

"What?" whispered the pacifist.

"I said enough."

"Since when do you care, I've gotten you where yo-"

"Silence! I need to think, and neither of you are helping."

The violent voice quieted and the more passive seemed to be waiting.

"It's rather simple you two. At this point, going for the kill is not the answer, but we are going in there. And we will wreak havoc. But we need a diversion. And I know exactly where to get one. If all goes well, Asgard will have one less prince within the week."

"And would you mind sharing this plan?"

"Yes, I would actually. You'd just rationalize it away, with if I may add, flawed reasoning."

After this, I did not hear from them for a while. But they did come back at a later time, the only difference being that I was acknowledged in their conversations.

I hurried off to the elevator, situated at the other end of my large and comfortable office. For you see, the higher up you get, the more luxuries you can afford. I exited into the "illustrious" city of Asgard, with all of its vilest on display, at the hour of midnight.

Cloaking myself in black, I proceeded with only my eyes visible, walking towards a place I knew held the un-official gate to Jotunheim. It was situated in the back room of a filthy tavern, in which my cloaked figure was a common and overlooked sight. I was Luke, a midget Aesir, blond and passive.

"Ah, young Luke m'boy, what kin I get 'fer you today?"

"Nothing for now, but I would appreciate a visit to your back room; with recompense, obviously."

"Why of course young Mas'r. Anything you please, but do remember to tip your waiter." The bartender said with a devious smirk.

I let out a small sigh, then laughed

"I'm offended, don't I always?"

"Course ya do. Jus' doin' my dooty by my boys here."

I mentally rolled my eyes, yes of course, you old geezer. You're doing your "dooty" by blackmailing them out of wages later. Outwardly I nodded my agreement and slipped several gold pieces into his palm. Then I headed to the back, tipping the self-conscious attendant by the door.

Once inside I discarded my disguise, and then proceeded to magically transform my attire into all that was fit for a prince of Asgard. Stowing my cloak in my hammerspace, I strode towards a mirror that was placed in the far left corner of that dark and over-stuffed room; I touched the mirror's surface lightly with my index finger and felt it go through. Smirking I stepped through the mirror and straight into the heart of Jotunheim.

I scanned my surroundings quickly, and noticed a group of Jotuns to my left. They had not noticed me yet, and I used this to lessen the space between us. When I was within hearing I hailed them; of course, they immediately bristled with weapons and snarled. I put my hands up, signaling my peaceful intentions, and then explained that I was fighting for their cause. I knew all too well that Odin had their precious casket; I also knew that a certain general would love nothing more than to get that casket to Laufey, so as to prove his valour. Laufey would then use the artifact to destroy Asgard and restore Jotunheim to its past state of Frost Giant grandeur.

"Bring me to General Skymir. Then we'll talk about the invasion."

I was brought rather promptly to the said general. Purebred Frost Giants are truly gullible when they wanted something badly enough. In later days, I blessed my stars for inheriting some Asgardian skepticism from Odin. When I met Skymir, I had to tilt my head a good deal to look up at him, he was indeed a giant. We got to talking, and eventually I convinced him that even with all of Asgard in the palace, tomorrow was still the best time ever to get the casket. It was so easy, I almost felt shame.

I re-entered Asgard with a grin plastered on my face. Cloaking myself again, I could not resist a little pat on the back.

"Nicely done, not even the mischievous one himself could have done better. Oh, wait. That's me." I laughed at the name my cloaked figure had acquired on the streets.

Sobering myself, I stepped out of the back room and sat at the bar counter.

"One of the usual Kadri, if you please." I ordered something so as not to seem strange to other patrons, to them I was Luke Jameson, age 21. I needed to keep a good reputation here if I was to use the back room frequently. The old man didn't even know about the mirror's properties!

"Alright Luke, you've got it." Replied the barkeep's assistant, he was not an unpleasant boy, one whom you could say was not on my list of people to kill.

"One shot of rum from Vanaheim."

"Thank you."

I downed my drink, and left with a show of leisure, but once out of the door I spoke a word of transport and arrived at the window of my room in the palace. Changing hurriedly into my normal attire, I teleported to the library, and walked to the dining room from there, nodding to the librarian on my way out. I was, of course, just in time for supper.

"Loki! There you are. I was about to ask the librarian to find you. Son, you do spend entirely too much time in that stuffy place. Why you probably know all the books off by heart! You know I don't usually mind when your absent at meals, but we need to speak with you tonight." Frigga did not approve of my constant solitude, and wished I would go live it up, and (if at all possible) court a girl. Apparently so did Thor:

"My coronation's tomorrow brother, don't tell me you'll be locked up then too?"

"No, no. I wouldn't miss that for the world." I said, my tone dripping with mock warmth. Thor was completely oblivious to my thinly veiled hatred, but Odin was another matter:

"What's wrong Loki? Do you begrudge your brother's good fortune?"

I mentally shot him.

"Of course not Father, I'm simply dismayed at how little warning I was given. I would have liked to organize a party or make him a gift. But now I'm forced to do something on extremely short notice." This time, I lied much more convincingly, being careful to add the sound of sincerity and dismay at all the right moments. It seemed to pacify the Allfather, for he nodded and resumed eating. Frigga though was all heart:

"Oh we know, but you see the people were voting between Thor and you, and well, we needed time to see who'd won. Once we figured that out, the seers announced that tomorrow would be the best day for a gathering. That was last week, but this is the first time I've seen you at dinner in almost a month! Where in the world have you been?"

I smiled at her affectionately,

"Yes, of course mother I understand, and as for where I've been…"

I decided that I would give her what she wanted; I let loose a web of infallible lies:

"You see, I met a maiden at last month's banquet, and fell quite hopelessly in love with her. When she left, I knew I had to see her again. So I tracked her down and found she was part of the disgraced royal family that Father had gone to war with in Vanaheim. Thus, when we met, it was quickly decided we could never be... So I came back here. I'm sorry for troubling you, but I could not bring myself to write until the matter was settled. And now that there's closure, I believe we can all forget about it."

I said that last part while shooting daggers at Thor. He caught my gaze, and any mirth or ridicule that was dancing in his eyes shriveled up. Frigga on the other hand was near tears.

"Oh! Oh, Loki I am so sorry son. That your first love had to end so tragically!"

"No, no mother. Its fine, I'm not going to cry about it now. What's done is done, and it was probably some foolish fancy anyways. Let's please talk about some other subject. Thor! What do you plan on doing as your first kingly act?"

Thor of course, pounced on the topic, it involved him after all.

"I will travel to Jotunheim! To find out if there really are any remaining frost giants; and if there are, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!"

"That sounds like a decent plan. Why let such a useless minority live, after all." Mentally I said something very different. But that needs not be mentioned.

The conversation dragged on, until finally, I was able to seize on an opportune moment of silence to excuse myself. I hurried away to my chambers, deciding that I would sleep today, wanting to keep the voices out of my head as long as possible, to hell with dreams, for they had yet to return, and I was always wary of extended silence.

When I woke, it was around 3 AM and still dark. But something had woken me, so I sat bolt upright and extended my senses. There was no-one in my room except me, so I relaxed a little, but my gut told me something was not right. I got up quietly and slipped into the hall, letting my senses tell me which way to go. I ended up in the practice rooms; I hesitated a little, because the last time I had entered there ended, well, badly. But I pushed aside any trepidation and quietly entered. I was met by an odd sight, Thor was practicing on a dummy with his fists, but that was not the strange part of it. The unusual part was that he was completely alone. I kid you not; I have never seen Thor without some kind of friend or fan, on even a single day of my life! I was taken aback, and wondered why in all of Valhalla and Helheim was he alone. Also, why would my senses take me to my brother? I was never concerned with his problems before.

"Can't sleep Thor?"

He whirled and I saw a sort of animal ferocity in his gaze, but I was used to that. It was the fear that caught me off-guard.

"Brother! It's only you. I thought it might be Fandral or Sif come to mock."

"No… It's only me, and I'd like to know what's going on. You know I don't mock you."

"… Alright, if you insist. You see, tomorrow is my coronation and I am feeling…"

"Yes, feeling what?"

"Feeling… Nervous! Now don't you dare laugh or smirk!" My shoulders slackened. For a moment I'd thought that something had been actually wrong.

"Do I look like I'm laughing? Thor, there is no reason to feel nervous. Have you ever done something to cause the people to doubt your competency as king?"

"N-No"

"Then you see? There is nothing to fret over. You will be a great King."

"You truly believe that?"

"Yes Thor." I was not getting the usual satisfaction out of fooling him. That troubled me.

"Thank you brother, I needed that off my chest. I- I can always count on you to be there when I need you. I will try to do the same for you. We must stand by each other."

"Yes, of course Thor."

I was surprised at how much sincerity was behind his words, in fact, I was never there for him. I ignored him unless it was essential! Yet somehow, the oaf still cared for me, loved me even. I needed to get out of there before my resolve crumbled entirely about today's events. With this in mind, I hurried out. I ran down the hall, desperately trying to keep my mind clear of indecision so the voices would stay away.

"I will follow through, stay focused." Over and over.

I burst into my room panting and sweating. At this point I was willing to listen to anyone, anything to explain away the volatile feelings inside me. It was then that I was introduced to a new voice. I did not recognize it, but it was soft, soothing and its very sound made me drowsy and relaxed.

"Oh Loki, why do you let trifles have such an effect on you? You're more than capable of handling your emotions aren't you?"

The aggressor piped up just then, jolting me out of my trance.

"Hey! We were taking care of him just fine! We don't need any of your kind here, now get out!" My other occupant voiced itself that moment, seeming atypically distressed.

"H-He's right! You need to leave. Immediately! He doesn't need you! Not now, not ever!"

Once over, I was lulled into a stupor by the intruder. But it seemed to have a different edge to it; a dangerous one.

"Quiet down now, you two. You know very well that only he can decide that. I'm here to offer my help if he'll take it." It cut off then, directing its voice to me:

"So what do you say Odinson? Will you take my help? I don't offer it to just anyone. But you seemed different from the others. You have finesse and class. I can help you refine yourself even further. Just invite me into your plans. I'll take care of the rest. No need to worry about anything."

I was still processing the first sentence of what was said; when my two combatants piped up again, this time both sounding desperate; as if warning me against some great danger. What danger? I was still entranced. I felt a sharp pain at the back of my mind. It sent me falling forward in my fuddled state. Then as I seemingly fell in slow motion, the aggressor broke through my fog.

"WATCH OUT!"

I snapped to attention, catching myself just inches from the cold marble floor. I could have split my head open without difficulty. I considered the offer before me, and recognized a smooth liar. This was looking dangerous, and I needed resolution. But damn it all, the voices signified that I had only indecision. I was swaying on a razor edge. Which way should I go? Succumb, to this new and potentially dangerous voice, which offered to alleviate me from responsibility and effort; allowing me to rest. One must admit; it was hazardously tempting. Or should I stay with the familiar and (moderately) safe voices, which I could usually hold control over. If I did that though, it would mean long hours of sleepless anxiety and pain. Working hard to keep my path straight, using every iota of strength and intellect to remain on top of my life's evils.

"You see? We're here to help you Loki. We'll keep you safe." It was my logical pacifist now. Yes, that was right. He was my logic, and the other was my passion.

"Now that your back in a sound state of mind, will you kindly tell this intruder to get the Hel out?" So growled my zealous aggressor.

I focused my thoughts on the new and unidentified voice; and just like that, I made my own decision. I directed my thoughts at the intruder.

"I will do neither. Listen here, I don't want you to leave, but, it must be clear that I am in control. If for even an instant, you try to do anything past giving me council, I will dismiss you."

"Very well, Master Loki. It shall be as you say."

That imp knew how to smooth my feathers at least.

"Good. Now the lot of you go to sleep. I will try to resume my rest if you please."

And just like that, they silenced. After this, I enjoyed the luxury of almost complete control over them; for a little while at least. I found a way to widen the margin for error, for now.

When I woke again, it was for the natural reason of light playing on my closed eyelids. I thanked providence for normal awakenings. Getting up, I felt refreshed, like I had not felt in a while; I chalked it up to me finally having a grip on my mind's occupiers. I swung out of bed and proceeded to accomplish all the small, domestic luxuries of the morning. Once clean and shaven, I dressed in my best and walked to the great hall.

Frigga and Odin were already there, naturally. But Thor and his friends were in the dining hall finishing breakfast. I was asked to summon them to the great hall; I dismissed myself from the Allfather's presence and went towards Thor's private banquet hall. I made sure to open the door quietly, and thus Thor and his rowdy company did not notice me. Oh Thor. Are you really that easy to steal up to? You'll never know what hit you.

I strode forward, and much to my amusement no-one took notice. I surprised everyone by projecting my whisper outside of my being:

"Hello Asgardians." My voiced hissed as if from beside the fireplace opposite the table.

They all jumped, and you could get a good study of each character by their reactions:

Thor stood and summoned Mjolnir, ever the brash fighter.

Sif visibly bristled with hand hovering over her sword, looking to see what Thor would do, ever the impressionable female, dominated by emotions and fancies. Yet she tried desperately to be an independent shield maiden.

Fandral stared hard at the spot my voice came from hand in mid-air, ever the lazy and arrogant excuse for a swordsman.

Hogun was sitting placidly, yet every muscle was tense and his eyes were wild, ever the cool headed warrior of honor.

Volstagg didn't even notice. He was still eating. And to that, nothing needs be added.

Every eye was pointing away, and I ventured a more normal greeting:

"Friends! Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three; good-day to you all!"

They each doubled around, and seeing me, relaxed. Thor recognized one of my older tricks, and he had the good sense to laugh.

"Brother! It was only you, we got quite a scare! We were actually talking of the legends surrounding secret passages in the palace; they supposedly were used by traitors to commit crimes like assassination and theft with ease. So we were a little on edge. But come! Join our feast!"

"Or what's left of it!" Said Volstagg cheerily.

I smirked at Thor's words. The oaf was truly clueless. I pushed aside the desire to burst out laughing at how easily and soundly I had fooled them all, in matters much larger than this.

"No, I already ate," I lied. "But I'm here to tell you all that you should begin to prepare yourselves. The ceremony will begin soon."

Fandral spoke then, chastising me I suppose.

"Ah, that's Loki for you. Never any time to have a little fun. Always straight to the important things in life, by the quickest route; no time for shambling fools like us eh?"

I contrived an apologetic look; but Thor beat me to repling.

"Now Fandral, my brother loves fun as much as anyone. He just has a different idea of what that is than us. He prefers a book to pretty girls."

"Of course. But if he were to ever change his mind, I could name at least 5 ladies who are dying to meet him."

I mentally groaned. I got along just fine with the "ladies" on my own actually Fandral. Besides, the last thing I wanted right now was a simpering female leeching at my energy and focus.

"That's hardly necessary Fandral. I appreciate the generous offer, but I don't have the forbearance for such a relationship."

"Can't blame me for trying!"

No Fandral, because your motives are oh so pure. Ugh. I had to get out of this den of hypocrites.

Thor feigning happiness, while a glance at his eyes showed thinly veiled angst.

Sif pretending interest in the conversation, when everyone around besides the oaf himself could see, she yearned for Thor to notice her in a special way.

Fandral shamming goodwill while glorying in last night's "conquest" and mentally gloating.

Volstagg and Hogun were the only transparent ones there. But the former was so dense and the latter so obsessed with his honor that their very presence aggravated me.

I excused myself pleasantly and hurried out.

Having the sudden urge to throw up my pretended breakfast, I took a side-trip to the nearest window. Dignity be damned, they truly made me sick.

The only one I could stand was Sif. In fact, I admired her greatly. But her taste in men was greatly flawed, so she was oblivious to any of my feelings at all. Obviously, I refused to be used to get her closer to Thor. Poor girl, if she had but asked I could have told her it was futile. Thor had no fidelity in his heart for anyone except his hammer. But still. They all were so close. Despite their flaws, they stayed together.

"Stay focused Master Loki; forget the superficial charm of their fellowship. It's not worth your time and energy."

Good advice. I could not have said it better myself. I was glad that I'd decided to keep that one.

When Thor and co. finally decided to grace the great hall, Asgard was already gathered. The moment was very near, all was arranged and going perfectly. This was my last chance to back out…

"Don't even think about it. I'm here to make sure you follow through remember?" My passionate voice was adamant.

"Yes, what would I do without you?" I whispered back scathingly.

"Hush! The people will hear you!" My logical voice reprimanded.

I smirked. How I loved the feeling of knowing something others didn't.

At that moment, Thor burst forth from the doors at the other end of the hall. He was decked in all his regalia, and everyone cheered till they were hoarse. When he finally made his grand way to the steps of Odin's throne, I began to feel sick again. I fought extremely hard to keep it in check, and thankfully, succeeded. I had lost any sense of merriment I had though. My face was impassive as Odin began to recite the kingly questions and Thor to answer them. I thought all my choices over quickly. If I go through with this, Thor will commit treason, Odin will shun him and keep the throne for a while longer, and I can organize further plans after that. It seemed fool-proof. Then again, Thor and his friends could easily get badly hurt, and my duplicity could be discovered. It was risky, but I saw no alternative. Ah, but there went the explosion. No turning back now.

The rest of that incident is, as they say, history. You all know how the casket was defended, and Thor whipped up into a substantial rage about how Odin had neglected this very avoidable problem, and thus ruined his day. Thor stormed off, and wrecked a banquet hall. Then I, staying true to my timid and mousy reputation (among Thor and co.) sent him off to Jotunheim with reverse psychology. That's when it got risky. I needed to make sure the frost giants kept quiet about my identity, if they should recognize me. This was easier than I had anticipated. Heimdell transported us to a place miles and miles away from my usual entry point. Frost giants have whole communities divided by distance, so I had no reason to worry. But then something happened to change my whole perspective on life. I discovered my true heritage. It was all I could do to keep myself standing. My vision was swirling, and I felt lightheaded.

But ironically, Fandral saved me from embarrassment. He got stabbed, so that gave validity to rushing everyone out. We almost made it, but Thor had to be the hero and continue to provoke them. Thus, we were pursued by that monstrous dog, creature. We all emerged unscathed though, (relatively speaking) when Odin called us back to Asgard. That's when my plan went slightly off-course. Thor got himself banished, instead of simply being confined to his room. I hardly noticed though, I was too busy trying to piece together broken shards of my now destroyed life story. I figured it out quickly enough though. I went directly to the treasury to make certain. Sure enough, while a normal person would freeze entirely on contact with the casket, my body simply changed forms to protect me.

I turned to face Odin and learn the truth. He told me everything that he had been too cowardly to admit before. And then, conveniently slipped into the Odin Sleep. Right when I could have used a little fatherly direction.

That did it. I was undone; every fiber of my being was thrown to different corners of the universe. For the first time in a long time, I experienced two emotions, in their distilled, purest forms:

Anger and sadness.

They destroyed all my walls and barricades. With horror, I felt them tear at my carefully built up cordons of bitterness, exposing my soul through my eyes. My seemingly in-traversable moats of distance and solitude were filled in and crossed, letting me know how much I truly missed the feeling of my soul being touched by another. My weapons of venomous lies and inflammatory opinions were rendered useless, I couldn't think of even one way to explain this away. My very drive and focus was blurred and confused, what was I then? All I knew was pain, horrible pain. And anger at the ones who did this to me.

"All of them. They all did this. It's them, they hate you. They'll never love you. Never have. Never will. You're alone. Nothing you do will endear anyone to you. The only companions you have are your lies and the cobwebs of shredded dreams. But you've always known that deep down, Laufeyson" The unidentified voice hissed at me relentlessly.

Damned emotions aside, he was right.

That was all I had now. So why bother? For Hel's sake, why do anything but what I wanted? Nothing had really changed, except perhaps, that any direction I had in my life was dashed to pieces. I was already dead to myself. I needn't go on trying to be something I wasn't.

Not that it helped me at all right now though. I needed to pull myself together. I called the guards, and walked towards my room to deal with my condition.

I closed the door behind me and felt myself drop onto the bed. For a while, I let my emotions take their course. I raged and sobbed alternately, a complete slave to my feelings whims. When I emerged from that, I was a changed man. Now that my pent up emotions were out of the way, I could see clearly. I knew six things:

I was utterly alone, but that had more pros than cons, I realized.

I was a Jotun, with the ability to switch forms into an Asgardian. Highly valuable.

My plans needed some fast altering to still work. Nothing I couldn't fix though.

I was still under everyone's skin in the palace. I mustn't compromise that.

I now had no morals or expectations to hold me back. I could do what I wanted to.

I cared not a whit for anyone around me anymore. No-one. Or so I told myself.

Besides that, not much was clear. So I set about re-building my mental barriers. Once I was comfortably inside myself again, I set about salvaging my plans. I realized, this chain of events provided a unique chance. With Odin sleeping, and Thor banished, I was the next in line for the throne. Effective immediately! This enabled a lot. And, if I could keep Odin asleep, or even better, kill him quietly, and say he died in sleep. Then I could keep Thor in Midgard to rot, and I would be unchallenged for the throne. The only problem was that some frost giants knew of my identity, and may rouse some rabble back here in Asgard. I could not leave the palace long enough to hunt them down, besides; I couldn't even remember what they all looked like. I'd have to do something to eliminate all threats, and quickly. By something that could be written off as an accident too. I figured I'd find something when I needed to. But for now, I needed to go see Frigga. She would want an arm to cry on, and someone to trust in. I of course, would be the only option.

Hurrying off to accomplish this, I let loose a hearty laugh. I felt so much happier, lighter even. As if a huge burden were lifted, and I knew I'd never be the same. Looking back, that was the moment where I lost my sanity; and started to realize both how horrible and liberating that really was.

When I reached the room where Odin was put whilst he slept, I held out my arms to Frigga, and she went into them gladly. After a few moments conversation, she did what I expected her to, which was she to give me control of all Asgard. I accepted the burden with the proper amount of bewilderment and gravity. When I was through with that act, I sat on the throne wondering who in the world has ever been happier.

And just my luck, I acquired two new demons. One was a perpetual pessimist, while the other was an optimist. Just what I needed. Now, the number of voices became even larger later on, so I will disclose the names I used when referring to them:

The Logician was Data.

The Zealot was Skrell

The Pessimist was Umber

The Optimist was Landr

The unidentified was simply, The Other.

"I can name millions who have been, and are much happier than you ever will be Laufeyson." This was of course Umber, and he, as always invoked a reply from Landr:

"Well, I can name millions who have been and are much less happy than he is now!"

"You two should stop bickering, there's no point to it right now." That was Data, right on cue. And, since you can't have one without the other, Skrell put in his two cents:

"Could you stop putting people down with your cold logic? People need to feel things sometimes! Things like hot anger or gripping fear!"

The only one who really aided me much was The Other. I blessed my choice to keep them each time he spoke:

"Master Laufeyson, you should consider silencing them. It must be rather distracting."

The others usually revolted when he spoke. They were all convinced he didn't belong. They all told him to stay out of it. I said otherwise.

"I tend to agree with him. You're all very intent on keeping me frayed at the edges aren't you? Go back to sleep! The lot of you! I need peace, and good council." I said that to indicate The Other was to stay if he wished.

They listened. Thank Valhalla, they listened.

"Well done Master Laufeyson. Now, I believe there has been a nagging little question you've wanted to ask me."

"Yes; several. First, what am I to call you in conversation?" This had been confusing me.

"Your mind has labeled me as "Other", so I will answer to that." He replied smoothly,

"Good. Now, Other, from whence do you hail? I know you're someone communicating telepathically; I'm not so dense as to not feel that. But I have never encountered your kind." I was genuinely bothered by this. I did not like that something I knew nothing about was privy to my mind's doings.

"Ah. So young Laufeyson has figured that out hmm? Well, I hail from a place long lost in history. Not even you know of it. I am part of a race known as the Chitauri. We were long dropped out of the history books." I was slightly taken aback. I had indeed, never heard of them.

"Not all of them apparently, for I have heard of your kind. But I never had the honor of meeting one of you." I slipped a lie into our conversation, to see if he could tell. If he did, there was no sign of it.

"Really? Well I'm shocked. A spell was supposed to have erased all information on us a long time ago. But I suppose Asgardians have ways of protecting their knowledge."

"Indeed. Now, I want to see you. I think I have earned the right to speak to you face to face."

There was a silence after this. And I feared I had gone too far; but I slowly saw the throne room around me melt away, into a wasteland of arcane and ice. Aware that I was not truly here, but somehow my spirit was; I felt a strong telepathic being to my right, so I turned to face this "Other". He was shorter than I expected. He was also not human, only humanoid. In fact, it was hard to believe that his smooth voice came from his throat. But then again, he might have been disguising his voice. I learnt that this was exactly what he had done. His true voice was low and grating. It was one that instilled a nameless fear in the one who heard it.

It was thus that I first met the Other. I need not further illustrate the encounter, as most of the conversation was mundane, and adds nothing to the story. When my spirit returned, it was with a painful jerk. My senses were temporarily fuzzy and unclear, but that ended within the next 30 seconds.

I mulled this new information over, wondering how I could use it to my gain. I was forced to put that aside though, when who should arrive but Sif and the Warriors Three.

I couldn't resist, I used that chance to gloat a little. Just a little.

After that, the rest is known. I sent the destroyer to Midgard to kill Thor, was thwarted, went to destroy Odin, was distracted by Laufey then thwarted by Thor. Went to destroy Jotunheim, but was thwarted by Thor again, and after all this, I was left hanging off the edge of the now decimated Bi-Frost; literally, dangling off the edge of my own insanity.

It was decision time again. And this time, it was me, no voices, no council, just me. I thought of a million reasons I should hold on. I could get through it. Not all was lost, I could do something better than this with my life. But I recognized lies when I heard them. I was kidding myself. It's better not to breathe than to breathe a lie. If I held on, I would be at best re-accepted, and back into the same vicious cycle of trying to impress and failing miserably. Maybe I would gain recognition, and maybe I would have some of the praise and glory I longed for. But I would still be living a lie. I would still sneak out to participate in the Dragon's Order. No, it would be much better to just end it here. It would cause much less misery for everyone that way. So I let go. I let go, expecting to be suffocated by the lack of air within minutes.

But, like Farbauti before me, plans for my death went awry.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two: Teenage Rebellion

Now comes the part where you dear reader, choose whether you hate me or sympathize with me. The next few years of my life are not ones that I'm proud of. I have no remorse or shame about them, but if given another chance, I would have used them more wisely. Read on, if you wish; and learn about the birth and death of Loki of Asgard.

As I fell, I wondered at why the voices were silent. Maybe they had fled, fearing for their lives. All other thoughts were jarred out of my mind by a blow to my back which sent my head whirling with pain. For a little while, I fell into unconsciousness, forgetting all my troubles for a few blissful hours.

I was rudely awoken by a sharp jab in my gut. Shaking my head to clear the fog, I became aware of a foreign object protruding from my stomach. I followed the object to the hand of a creature much like the Other, why, it must be another Chitauri.

Wait a minute; Chitauri? Where was I? I was supposed to be dead, but this was neither Hel nor Valhalla.

I looked around me, taking in my surroundings. I was indeed on the same rock pile I had seen when my spirit had wandered. Then I realized that somehow, against enormous odds, I had survived my fall. I suppose I must have chanced onto one of those places where worlds connect. I was still trying to process this when something pulled itself out of me. I looked back at my stomach, and I saw blood bubbling out of an open wound there. My brain finally registered the pain I had been experiencing, and it came in a torrent. I felt as if every bone and muscle in me must be torn and shattered. My stomach as if a spear had been poked all the way through it. Then again, I suppose that's what must have happened. I blessed the fates for Asgardian resilience.

Nevertheless, my eyes began to blacken, and I tried to scream, something, anything to express my pain. But nothing came out of my throat. Instead I heard myself cough, and felt hot liquid roll down my neck. Not good.

I looked up at my assailant, and he seemed surprised that I still breathed. Sitting up, I ignored the blaring sirens and gouging needles in my head; I froze his leg, making him scream satisfyingly. I felt myself hit ground again; causing several excruciating cracks to resonate within me. I coughed once more, feeling my eyes water and breathing hitch. I was wondering what I should do, but then it was decided for me. For just then, I got heaved onto one of the Chituari's shoulder. It was then that I noticed the pain was fading, and everything moving slowly. I felt my life-force slowly draining, and managed to beat back death only by slipping into a deep coma willfully.

When I woke, it was different. For one, I was not laying prostrate on a rock. Instead, I was in some kind of containment cell. I was also held upright, strung up in mid-air by my arms and legs, stripped down to my pants only. In short, I was completely helpless and in the most agonizing pain imaginable; which was made worse by the stretching my limbs were subjected to. Never before in my life has the urge to kill something violently seemed more attractive; though I'd become quite accustomed to that craving in years to come. I was positively feral; yet, my physical strength was gone. So I confined my raging to my mind, woe to the unwary that passed too close.

It was then that an unlucky guard came into my cell. Without even trying, my mind tore his to bits, leaving him dead on the ground. After a few minutes, and several other dead guards, I felt rather than saw five greatly armored guards come cautiously in. They had nothing to fear however, my small reserve of energy was completely spent. I sensed them place something heavy and painful on my head, then felt my mind become dull and useless to me: A telepathic lock. They had taken everything; I had nothing to do but give myself up to their intents, no matter what they were. But, unfortunately for me, I soon found out. In the meantime, I watched my blood and sweat slowly drop from my head and side to the floor, then gradually dry there. But the drops never slowed.

I didn't realize I had slept until I was woken by my own screams. I felt my heart stop for several agonizing seconds, and then start again with a painful lurch. Looking down, I noticed an armed guard jabbing me with some sort of evil blade. It glowed black and blue as it dug itself into my chest, only a few inches away from my heart. This was too much; I could stand pain, but a magic leeching artifact? No. I focused on the blade, and saw it breaking in my mind's eye. Then I felt something tighten over my temples, and blood roll down over my eyes. Right; no telepathy. Damn it. I screamed again, trying uselessly to throw the cursed thing out of me. But it was no use, the more I struggled, the deeper it burrowed into my flesh. I hung my head and felt it drag torrents of raw power from within me, leaving only enough so that I could re-charge for what I guessed would be the next day's extraction. The blade was removed, now flashing green and gold. My colors. I felt as if only half of me was still alive. They had taken part of my very being, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Now, a regular person would most likely have given up. Not cared anymore. But not me, I got angry. If they thought I would allow them to steal from me without one hell of a fight, then they had made a fatal mistake.

So I bided my time, let them get used to my passiveness. I convinced them that I had given up hope on escape. When all the while, I was regaining my strength, running on sheer will-power; the one thing they couldn't rob me of. Then one day, I knew I was strong enough to break my bonds with ease, and then I could see what I would do about escaping. I waited for my guard to come in with the blade.

He entered laughing to another of his kind. The newcomer hesitated at the door, eyeing me suspiciously. I concealed a smirk; obviously my reputation was a dangerous one.

My guard cackled contemptuously. He said something to the skeptic in his language, which I had learnt almost perfectly over these past few months:

"What are you afraid of? This one? Hah! Not he, he's not moved for months. Besides, he can't move a muscle, even if he tried, and his mind is completely bound. No, you've got nothing to fear from this one."

I raised my head then, startling the two of them. I spoke to them in their dialect quite fluently (I had to do SOMETHING with all that idle time, so I learnt their language.):

"I have a name creature. My name is Loki, of Asgard. You've been stealing from me." My voice was horse and cracked from dehydration and disuse. But there was nothing wrong with my tongue; it was nimble as ever.

My guard was speechless. He tried to look away, but I just laughed; a hollow, dry, humorless laugh, allowing my eyes to bore into his. He chuckled nervously, and his companion advised him to get extra security. Then I acted, breaking my bonds in one quick motion. I gouged my concealed knives out of my thighs and dispatched the two quickly. Ripping that accursed mental barrier off my head, I strode out into the hall, stumbling over my now weak legs. I killed every creature I came across and burst out of two doors at the end of the dungeon's hallway. I looked around quickly, recognizing the room before me as an audience area. Audience area, meant a king. I glanced about for a throne or dais. Then, to my left, I saw it. I walked swiftly towards the king past bewildered onlookers. As I neared the dais, I heard what must have been a cry of alarm. I ran the rest of the way up the throne's steps. Grabbing the figure on the throne, I held my knife to his throat calling out in a husky voice:

"Creatures of this realm, I am Loki of Asgard, and I have been held in your prison for months now against my will. I am here now, triumphant over all your defenses to demand an explanation. I fell onto your world by sheer accident, and even now, the wounds I have from the fall are not fully healed. Why was I imprisoned without crime or trial? If I am guilty, tell me now. For nothing is more infuriating than to be held without reason, and I assure you: It is dangerous for you."

The king spoke up saying that I had maimed a patrol man for life with frost-bite, and I was imprisoned until it could be determined how dangerous I was. When I killed yet another guard with telepathy, it was decided that I would need to be held until I could be identified. No-one knew me, so I had stayed down there, with my magic being drained as a safeguard.

It was a good explanation, but my constant solitude had driven me mad, making me quite unreasonable. So I denied that explanation screaming for the truth, threatening to destroy them all.

Then I was stabbed in the back, literally; I felt my body suck in whatever the blade was enchanted with; I was magically deprived, so anything of the arcane was absorbed instantly. And for one awful second, I loosened my hold on the man. My mistake, the ruler jumped out of my grasp and called for guards to shoot me. They did, and I was put full of holes. I remained standing though, refusing to give them the pleasure of seeing me kneel before their petty monarch. Instead I spat at his feet and hissed:

"You will regret imprisoning me like this."

With that, I was dragged to a deeper, darker place than earlier. This time magically bound to the walls and _all_ my weapons were found and taken, the room itself blocked my telepathy. So I was left in the same position as I had been in before. Then the torture began in earnest.

The first thing my captors did every day was take turns slashing at me with a lead tipped whip; leaving infected wounds all over me, the gouges never ceased to burn infernally. The next thing done was to force tubes down my throat and leave them there. Using these, they pumped a vile liquid down into my stomach daily, and if I were to throw up, it would just go right back down. I know not what that substance was, but it threw me into convulsions every time I was subject to it. It felt as if my insides were burnt up each time; while leeching at my strength and leaving me gasping for air. I do believe it would have killed me if left pumping for long enough. But they always stopped it, just when death began to sound sweet.

I slipped into a state where I didn't notice myself hurting anymore. I needed to focus hard to feel anything at all. I recognized this as a symptom of malnourishment and fatigue. But I daren't sleep, lest I forget myself and pass into the next world. I still had a hard seed of determination to get out of this, and dying did not enter any of my calculations. There is one thing the reader must understand about me: once angered, I would always have my revenge, whether it took days or years; it didn't matter how long I had to wait. No-one could control me and get away with it. Ever.

When I was in that state, I had a good deal of time to think of what I had done. And I thought about it all, often, tearfully; yet the tears I shed were of bitterness, not remorse. What brought me through that time was not what might be expected. But I thought of Frigga. I thought of seeing her again, and realized that I wanted to; very much actually. I yearned for her free acceptance and love; and that brought me out of thoughts of vengeance and death. She was my single star in an endless sky of black despair.

Days dragged on; I had long given up on counting them; though I still didn't dare to sleep. Then one time, I looked up with a start. Something was different; something had diverged from the monotonous routine of agony. There was noise coming from above me. I looked up, realizing it was the sound of many feet rushing somewhere. But what from is what I couldn't tell. I soon found that out too.

I heard an ear-splitting crack. And just like that, the cell across from mine was broken open. My mind raced, if a prisoner escaped, I could have a singular chance at convincing him to remove my bonds. I closed my eyes and prayed my tongue had not turned lead from dereliction.

Sure enough, a humanoid strode past my clear cell wall. I got his attention by successfully spitting out those cursed tubes. When he directed his attention to me, I recognized him as a Jotun. I nearly screamed with joy, and promptly transformed into my natural form. He looked surprised, then Jotun loyalty kicked in, and he asked me where the release button was. I told him, and felt my bonds drop. I wasted no time in breaking the glass then, and we strode down the hall together, each of us grinning for different reasons.

When we reached the audience hall, I turned on my savior and, in front of all the watching Chitauri, I killed him. Then I directed my attention to the real cause for panic: one of the Kursed dark elves. I blessed that huge book for its information on Malekeith and his legions. I engaged the Kursed in battle by smashing a piece of ice over his head. Then, dodging his blows of retaliation, I set off one of his grenades; while just barely escaping in time. I then returned to my Asgardian appearance, and faced the Chitauri. But this time, I used telepathy to neutralize all their weapons beforehand.

"Hello again mortals. I suppose I just saved all your lives."

Many murmurs were circulated, but most admitted that, yes, I had indeed saved them all from certain destruction. I smiled and looked at the king, who was a different person than the other time I came here. This time, there was a figure who looked more regal and strong. Someone I wouldn't threaten lightly.

"Well your majesty, I most certainly won't go back into that hellish cell. So, I'm here to negotiate. I have at my disposal, the power to recall that beast if I so wish it, so I would advise you to listen." That was a bluff, but it couldn't hurt.

The King's response was quite prompt.

"I shall listen. Bring this man a drink."

I was not a fool though, and I dissolved the stuff before I swallowed it.

"Now, what I want is safe passage off of this realm back to mine. What you want," I took an educated guess, peeking into his mind: "Is something stolen to be returned to you. You've wanted this for a long while. And I know where it is."

"You know of the Tessaract?" He seemed rather dubious.

"Of course. As a prince of Asgard, I know all about it." I said dismissively.

That was not a bluff; I had indeed stumbled upon the subject in the library. I also took this chance to play my royalty card. It evoked the desired reaction:

The crowd erupted into turmoil. They knew Asgard's army was much too powerful to challenge, and now that one of the princes had a bone to pick… It looked pretty bad for them. The king spoke up then:

"Prince? We'll see about that. Guard! Bring me the Asgardian Census."

This was done with haste, and when the King was satisfied, he looked at me with a careful respect. I forced down the urge to laugh.

"Well Highness? Are you willing to make a compromise?"

And he was more than happy to. I had the good fortune of attaining the Other as a go-between for me and the King. In the end, our deal looked something like this:

"Prince Loki, of Asgard pledges to locate the Tessaract for Lord Thanos at all costs, supported by Lord Thanos' military and intelligence forces. In return for the Tessaract's location, Lord Thanos will release Prince Loki from his custody, allowing him safe return to Asgard without pressing charges for the 43 murders he committed. But, in the event of Prince Loki's failure, Lord Thanos declares his life forfeit, and he will pay for his crimes in full." Signed: His Lordship, Thanos of the Chitauri Loki of Asgard

"Does that sound fair princeling?" Thanos asked contemptuously.

"Quite. I'll not fail you, rest assured." I grinned. This would be too easy, the relic was on Midgard. Of all places, that was the easiest target. In addition, Thor loved that pitiful place, so he'd come running. I'd be able to see him, and show him what I was capable of. I was positively dying to unleash the beast within me.

We were to set out the next morning, and for the first time in what felt like years, I was under the scrutiny of a doctor. Apparently, my bones were still all fractured, but held together with living ice. This intrigued me; I wouldn't need to worry about it when my bones broke, I could still function normally. With extreme pain though; that was a drawback.

I proceeded to melt that ice, and allow that doctor to set my bones in the right positions; something I would later learn to do myself. As soon as I stopped focusing on keeping the ice melted, it re-froze, this time encasing my bones, making internal casts. This was extremely convenient; I needed no bulky slings or painful healing spells. So I walked out of there without a limp! Though still in much pain however.

I was then shown to a room, quite comfortable compared to what was previously given to me here. There was a clean, soft bed, a bathroom with fresh water, and a rug on the floor. Incredible luxury, compared to the cell of a few hours back.

I realized then, that I had not washed for several months, maybe years. So I went immediately to the bathroom; and after around two hours, I emerged, feeling cleaner than I had ever felt before. I even had new clothes thanks to hammerspace. Anything I could not achieve manually, I disguised magically. I brushed off the stubble on my chin, and slicked my hair back by manipulating static electricity. Looking in the mirror, I was able to see some of the man that used to stare back at me. But mostly, I saw a thin, scarred and angry boy. I scowled and looked away. My face was open, exposing to anyone who looked that I was not as confident as I said. Composing myself properly, I looked at myself again; and was much more satisfied this time. I saw what I wanted to see: A cold, calculating, handsome young man; with not a hint of indecision. Practice really did make perfect.

I walked around my temporary quarters, taking in my surroundings. I knew I couldn't trust these creatures, royal pledge be damned. I extended my senses freely for the first time in ages, and felt emotions coming from the several thousand other beings on this rock-pile. I was happy to note that I felt no hostility near me, only slight fear coming from the rooms beside mine. But that was to be expected.

I looked at the mirror again, scrutinizing my wounds and scars. I had a large warped spot on my stomach, from that spear I suppose, not quite healed. Another few much like it, but confused and ragged on my chest, from the magic blade; also not fully healed. On my forehead, just above my hairline, I had several deep gouges in the same condition. For that I blame the cursed mind shackle. I looked at my arms, and saw several red angry wounds there. And my eyes were sunken in to a horrifying extent. Besides that, the only thing noticeable was my pale complexion gone ghostly. I attributed that to my lack of sunlight, and the expected lash marks. But of all these, the only one that really concerned me was the stab mark in my back. Its scab had broken off, leaving a huge, festering wound dripping with blood and puss. The weapon that had stabbed me was no normal one; I wouldn't have been surprised if there was a curse on it. I knew that needed attention, but I didn't trust the doctor here anymore than I did Hel herself. But, on the other hand, I knew I needed to heal it soon though, or the infection would spread to my heart. So I tried that ice trick again; freezing over the wound. The bleeding stopped, and the skin surrounding it turned from yellow to red, so I suppose that was an improvement. I sighed, not able to do anything else for now. I let myself drop onto the bed, barely noticing the jab of pain from my spine. Compared to what I had dealt with every day; well… that was nothing. Just as I was slipping into sweet, natural sleep; my voices decided to return.

I swear I could have blown my own brains out then. It was Landr, the optimist who spoke first:

"Well, that could have been much worse. You pulled through well!"

"Aw shuddup, he was just about to get to sleep you moron!" Umber reprimanded.

"He doesn't need sleep dolt! He needs to get back at those guards before thinking of rest!" Skrell shrieked, causing me to grit my teeth in anger.

"I disagree with all of you; right now he needs a plan for tomorrow! He's about to attempt the conquering of a world, with no plan! That is highly dangerous." And with the addition of Data's voice, my little drama troupe was complete. But I refused to allow them to keep me awake tonight.

"Shut up all of you, NOW. Where were all of you when I really needed guidance? You each fled and left me for dead when I fell. But now that I'm healthy and back on my feet, you all decided that I could use some "friends" again. Well I've had it with that. Now leave. Get out of my head. You take up too much of my time, for what? Nothing. You never helped me, for my own sake. Actually, you've only hurt me. So I'm ordering you out."

They all silenced. Skrell was the next to speak, laughingly.

"Forget it Laufeyson, we'll sleep, but we'll never leave. There's nothing you can do to get us out, we've been here too long."

And then they were gone. I was too tired to do anything else about them now. I'd have to do it later. For now, I let myself sleep.

In the morning, I was woken by a sharp knock on my door. I rose, dressing into regular attire magically; then called out for whoever it was to come in.

A guard had come to say that breakfast was served, and I was expected in the great hall. I simply told him to lead the way. When we arrived in the hall, everyone present, including Thanos rose to acknowledge me, though I was careful to keep my face emotionless.

His Lordship himself spoke then:

"Fellows, let us show the Prince the hospitable side of our kind, and make amends for previous treatment."

With that, several servers came in with all kinds of foreign dishes and drink. I pulled the dissolving trick again though; I was still quite wary of their "hospitality"; though I was agonizingly hungry. I spoke amicably with the people surrounding me, and I put on the best possible show of complete forgiveness. But inside, I still had it in for them; I didn't forgive easily, and I **never **forgot.

After breakfast, I was given my directives, introduced to the army and presented with the infamous scepter. The thing seemed to sharpen my senses to a needle point, and sent energy hissing through my veins. This, along with the return of all my magic completed my materials. I was then teleported to Midgard. It was there that I located Dr. Erik Selvig, and by virtue of telepathic control, possessed him. I enjoyed this, feeling at last what it was like to be a voice, rather than hear it. After about a week of this, I had all the information I needed; so I made my first public appearance on Midgard. I arrived, ironically, using the power of the Tessaract.

The initial surge of energy made my adrenaline rush, and as I looked up, I tasted sweet triumph. My main mission was completed, by using the Tessaract; I had released its unique energy signature. This allowed Thanos to read his instruments, and track it with ease. Now, I could go on with my personal plan of domination. To be honest, I wanted a throne, but more than that, I wanted to show just what I was capable of. And if I failed at ruling these people, then I'd still make them pay in blood for each of my defeats.

"Sir, please put down the spear."

I acknowledged this order by looking at my scepter as if I were contemplating this, and then blasting the man with an energy ray. I proceeded to make short work of their highly trained guards and assassins, easily killing each superfluous one. After I had secured the area, I went ahead and tested my scepter`s ability to brain-wash. I grabbed at the closest agent's arm and scanned his memories. He was loyal, and was a champion of his division of work. But most importantly, he had undying loyalty.

"You have a heart." With that I pressed the blade of my scepter to his chest, watching his eyes glaze over and emerge blue. Satisfied, I hurriedly did the same for the other people I'd need. I then accosted the man who'd first spoken to me; Nick Fury, as I gathered from the other's minds. He was foolishly trying to get away with the Tessaract.

"Please don't. I still need that." I said with mock cordiality.

"This doesn't have to get any messier." He replied tensely,

"Of course it does. I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose."

"Loki… Brother of Thor!" Erik spoke up then, I grit my teeth.

"We have no quarrel with your people." Nick was trying to pacify me. That and the very mention of my "brother's" name caused me to drop all pretenses of politeness.

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot." I spat. I was rapidly losing my patience with this man.

"Are you planning to step on us?" Nick seemed rather surprised. I couldn't believe the ignorance I was dealing with. I decided to make it simple, and replied using their mindset, though drenched in sarcasm:

"I come with glad tidings. Of a world made free."

"Free from what?" Nick persisted.

"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart;" I whirled, putting Selvig under my control to illustrate my next point: "You will know peace."

"Yeah, you say peace. I kinda think you mean the other thing." He alluded to war, obviously. Well, maybe man was not as dense as all that.

"Sir!" Barton spoke up then, grabbing my attention. "Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow and drop 100 feet of rock on us. He means to bury us." I silently thanked Barton for this. It would have been quite an embarrassment.

"Like the Pharaohs of old." I could feel Fury's rage towards Barton then. I loved it.

"He's right, the portal's collapsing in on itself. We've got maybe two minutes before this goes critical." That was Erik. I turned to Barton:

"Well then."

He obediently shot Fury and I hurried out, my minions in tow; the Tessaract secure. Though in honesty, it was a strain to move, I nearly fell over several times.

We escaped to my base, leaving none of our pursuers alive. I proceeded to tell the Other that I had the artifact, and if it would please Thanos, I'd like to use it to unleash his army on the city.

The Other said Thanos consented. He had the Tessaract tracked now, and even if I lost it, he could always retrieve it himself. I had pretty much been given a carte blanche.

So I proceeded to launch my attack on Midgard. The first thing I needed was a type of chemical to use the energy as a portal, so I headed to Germany. I was aware of course of the shield agents within my own ranks, and skulking around every corner, playing at stealth. I pretended not to notice them. But I gave them plenty to report back to their master. 80 people dead in 2 days is way off, actually. I killed nearer 200. But that's just a minor detail. Really, what's important to know is that I manipulated them all. Every agent, every report, I knew exactly what was said, and what was known. How? Simple. I had perfected my astral projections so that they had every aspect of a human being; in other words, they could be touched without disappearing, and could react properly, with all of my own sass and sarcasm. Yet I could make them take any form I wished. I could be either male or female, Midgardian or Asgardian; the options were limitless.

In all actuality, I was never truly in any danger, except in Germany. It was the real me that got captured and flown off in a helicopter, the real me that was roughed up by Thor, and the real me that was imprisoned in that cage. But, I had remote access to the whole base. I used this ability to stir up fights between the Avengers. Also, I will claim credit for that fine bit of mind playing I did with Agent Romanov. I knew before she walked into the room that they were out to get my plans, and I decided to reveal them to her, just to boost their confidence before I crushed them each in a personal way.

I had but one flaw in my plans.

I had underestimated the resilience of that man: Nick fury. He actually managed to get the Avengers together even after I had thrown them apart. That was the only flaw, for I had counted on them resisting in small pockets for their own reasons. But instead, I faced a trained force of powerful and unified individuals. I must say though, that I stayed good on my oath to make them fight tooth and nail. So much so that, the man of Iron did the un-thinkable; he gave himself up for lost just to stop me. And in my opinion, he deserved the honor of dying in battle then. But, unfortunately for him and the rest of Midgard, he survived. Also, I had gotten back at Thanos for my treatment. After I saw that my defeat was imminent, I influenced Selvig to allow for a kill code in the portal generator. I knew if that was done, the Tessaract would end up in one of the Avenger's hands, and Thor would offer to bring it to Asgard. So, in effect, I cheated Thanos by a seemingly tragic oversight.

In the end, I had the last laugh on everything:

The Tessaract was, at no obvious fault of mine, out of Thanos's evil hands.

I had survived the worst ordeal the realms could throw at me, and was stronger for it.

I had even gotten exactly what I wanted out of a deal with what might have been Hel herself: Safe passage to Asgard; and pardon for my 43 murders.

So it was with a light heart that I went back to Asgard to face judgment. I knew that in Asgard, even life in a cell would seem close to Valhalla compared to what I had been through.

Thor didn't speak to me as we walked back to the palace. But his mind screamed of agony and confusion. I just smiled. He'd understand in a little while. I wasn't done yet. I'd just bide my time. But first, I needed to get in touch with the Dragon's Order. I'd been MIA for a while now, and needed to re-establish my position there.

I thought all these things as I walked behind my would-be brother.

After a small conversation with a guard, he escorted me to one of the cells in the Asgardian Dungeons. As I expected, the cell was more than twice the size of a Chituarian one. And, though bare (save the bed in a corner), it was spotlessly clean. I settled myself down into my new residence, for I knew that from now on, at least for a while, I'd need to content myself with remote freedom. This pained me, but there was nothing to be done.

I used this now unusual time of solitude to create a clone at the door of the syndicate. I then allowed my consciousness to pass into my clone, making my physical body look like it was sleeping on its bed.

I walked through the door, hurrying to my room. As I expected, someone was occupying it.

"Out. Now." I demanded.

The light elf looked up from sharpening a knife with a jerk.

"And who are you to tell me to do so?"

"I am Loki Laufeyson, and this is my room. Now, you have five seconds to get out."

He didn't move. Stupid elf.

I lunged at him predictably, dagger in hand, causing him to parry with his knife. Then, I phased myself behind him, pausing only to give him a warning:

"Next time, think twice before denying me."

Then I plunged the knife deep into his heart, taking great pleasure in watching him sag to the ground, going through all the throes of a painful death. Stepping over his corpse, I took the elevator to his master's room. He happened to be my old one; so things went rather smoothly. I explained my absence, (with a complete fabrication), and told him of the events of the past five minutes. He accepted the facts I presented, and turned back to his work.

His mistake, I did not hesitate to kill him; taking the head to his superior. This effectively sent me up a level. I repeated this process six more times, varying in my approach, but always with the same outcome. I would have continued further, but my physical body was telling me to return. So I retired to my new quarters, and after writing a note to whoever my new student would be, explaining my nonappearance; I dissolved my clone, and recalled my conscious into myself.

I "woke" and looked around me, noticing a guard standing over me. He announced that the Allfather would see me now. This was a surprise; I had expected for him to take several days to get around to me. But it had only been a few hours. To be frank, I felt slightly flattered.

I got up, and allowed myself to be shackled hands and neck. Following my guard to the end of the hall, I noticed many of the prisoners had retreated to the back of their cells. Apparently, I was a well-known danger. Either that or they thought I was a ghost. Most likely the latter.

As we walked, my single guard grew to an escort of six. Again, I felt flattered.

We entered the Allfather's throne room, and I was sent into a river of memories. I could recall only too clearly the feel of Gungnir in my hands, the view that dais gave. But that was long out of my reach. I had forfeited any chance at those things ever again. I had bigger ambitions now.

I walked up to the throne, with a show of Midgardian zeal, I stood at attention. Odin was not amused.

I will abstain from writing down that rather painful conversation. But I will say the three things I learnt from it:

1\. No matter what I told myself, I truly had desired Odin's approval. That ache would not soon ease.

2\. Frigga loved me, she did not just tolerate me; she loved me. And I had hurt her, badly. The wound that caused would never heal. Just seal up, and pretend not to exist.

3\. I was fated to hurt and destroy the people I loved most.

It was due to the last realization that my face dropped as Odin gave my sentence. I went back to my cell willingly, and collapsed onto my bed, shedding silent, angry tears.

The next year of my life, was one of the most miserable I had ever experienced; my range of freedom being limited t space with my communications cut entirely. The only comfort I had was my remote clones, but it was not the same. If I experienced anything, it was as if from a great distance, mellowed by the long trip. Frigga did bring me books, and for this I was grateful. Unfortunately, at the speed that I read, I could easily consume five in one day; and Frigga could only bring in ten every month; and more often than not, I'd already read them. Nevertheless, few books were better than none. I needed more than that to fill the long hours of silence though. In these times, my mind invariably wandered to my past choices, to all the "could have's" and "should have's", "if's" and "but's"; they were slowly tearing at my sanity. What was worse, the voices would not be silenced. In short, I had no peace, not ever; I couldn't hold a proper chain of thought!

Eventually, I lapsed into a state where, no matter what was happening, if it wasn't affecting me, I ignored it entirely. To be honest, I was too busy trying to follow the conversations inside my head. It was at this time that I began to really realize what the voices were; I had demons, lots of them. The number grew by the week; and runes began to appear etched into my skin, I'd learn what they meant later.

During these long periods of motionless contemplation, I ascended the ranks of The Dragon's Order; until one day, I found myself among the top 100. These people were the realm's most highly intelligent, highly trained killers. If any of us slipped up, even once; it meant death. I saw this myself: Every second day, a meeting was held; discussing the conclusions of yesterday's goals. Every person who failed to perform to the expectations of their masters was called up, lined up, and systematically slaughtered. Maybe 2 or 3 were taken each time. Thus, the trickle of new people was never-ending; masters had to keep their senses razor sharp, because everyone was trying to get into higher ranks.

To those who had survived this rigor for more than a year, respect was accorded them. One could hardly help it, for someone to last that long, it required massive amounts of focus and intelligence. It was this that kept the Grand Master high in everyone's esteem and fear. He had started this syndicate himself, 20,000 years ago; and had held his position as overlord through it all. No-one actually saw him much, besides the unlucky few who were audacious enough to attempt an assassination. These efforts were sporadic, always ending the same way; their bodies were found burnt to a crisp in their own quarters. It was thus that the whole of the organization was kept in check; no-one daring to even mention his title above a whisper. It was commonly doubted that he would ever be replaced. Obviously, I made doing just that my long-term goal.

But I would need to wait a long, long time.

Meanwhile, I thrived; never feeling more alive than when I had just killed someone. The thrill of hunting an individual who could match my wits and the rush of being hunted; it made me into a new person, and I liked what I had become. The only drawback was that I did it all remotely, at no actual danger to myself; this made me much bolder though.

Back in my cell, I received no visitors, except Frigga, but she could only see me twice every month. I was, effectively, abandoned; again. This thought didn't bother me though, neither did the fact that if Thor or Odin died, I wouldn't know about it until who knows when. In fact, I realized that I really didn't care at all. They had left me to rot, so why in Helheim should I give a Fang of Fenrir if they died? Whatever you may have thought, dear reader, I didn't. Or, that is what I told myself day and night.

Then one day, something happened. There was a crash coming from a cell further into the dungeon; I experienced a large jolt of deja vu. I considered this reason enough to stop my bored fidgeting and look at what was happening. Then before my eyes, one of the Dark Elves Kursed creatures broke out of his cell, using another prisoner's head as a battering ram. I have to admit, that was clever. He then walked down the hall, releasing all the prisoners he could. He soon had a large assembly, but when he got to my cell, all his followers drew back, causing him to hesitate.

I walked up to him, staring him down. Daring him to release me, and risk the consequences. I saw his gaze falter, and I drew back, smirking. He started to walk off; smart choice for him. I called out after him quietly, hearing Thor's distinctive footsteps above:

"You might want to take the stairs to the left."

He looked at me dubiously, but nevertheless followed my advice. Then was gone, and I was left innocently inside my cell, thus safe from blame for the prison break. That would have been the last thing I needed.

The next moment, Thor with co burst through the dungeon doors, and the freed prisoners were all malice 'n murder.

I pitied them, Thor may be an idiot, but he definitely knew how to knock some heads; they didn't have a chance.

"If you go back into your cells, no harm will come to you, you have my word." Thor offered,

A club hit his face then though. Strike one, they're all out.

"Very well, you do not have my word." And the battle started, lasting for almost exactly 3 minutes; with all the prisoners lying unconscious at the end of it. I had by this time re-settled myself back into my routine of either staring at the wall, or staring at the ceiling.

The next hour I cannot tell you in any other way than what a guard reported to me, though I'm sure you know what happened.

Apparently, that beast of a dark elf found his way into Frigga's chambers. I was told that she was killed, 3 hours after the fact.

I lost it.

When I heard the news, I nodded to the guard, indicating that he could leave; which he hastily did. After I was sure he was gone, I got up and walked to the center of the room; showing all the signs of someone calm and collected, while fighting furiously to keep my walls from crumbling yet again. I clenched my fists in frustration, accidentally releasing a wave of telepathic force; subsequently smashing all my furniture. I fought for a good ten minutes against myself; swallowing bile, gnashing my teeth. But eventually, everything snapped, and I fell to my knees, giving way to a burning rage; losing all control over myself, degenerating into the raving mad, desperate mass of painful anger that I really was.

Looking back, I thank the fates I was confined then, for if I wasn't who knows what would have happened to innocent bystanders. I was consumed by white hot anger, I couldn't feel anything except excruciating pain, and that made me all the more furious. I didn't want to believe it. She was gone, my one solid rock; my one guiding star was gone and I was left drowning in the sea of my insanity. Not only that, but the last interaction I had with her was me disowning her; I was such a stupid, god forsaken monster! I hadn't meant it, and now there was no way to tell her that.

For what seemed like hours, I screamed and wailed, trying desperately to fill the gaping hole that had appeared in my heart. I resorted to destruction, ripping my books to shreds, and then decimating the furniture. When I ran out of things to destroy, I began to claw at myself, finding solace in pain. My nails turned blue, sharp as knives; I didn't stop until I had covered them in blood. Screeching in agony, I dug deeper into my flesh, desperately trying to distract myself from the voice in my head.

"Idiot! Worthless! Monster! Beast! Just die already!"

I tore at my hair and threw myself at the wall, pounding at it desperately. I needed to hide, go somewhere deep, dark and secret, to try and re-piece my shredded sanity. This cell was brutally white and light stabbed at my eyes like daggers, causing the tears to come even heavier. Eventually, my strength gave out, and I sagged down the wall sobbing heavily, without bars. Giving way and allowing the demons to run rampant, condemning me, pointing out my every mistake.

People who see me think I commit atrocities without remorse or apology; even I say that I regret nothing. But in moments like this one, it's perfectly clear that I have never told a greater lie.

After a long time, I had calmed down sufficiently to put up the illusion of me reading serenely. Meanwhile, I wrestled with my conflicting sides, they both held equal ground. I was divided completely in half, needing only the tiniest thing to tip me off of either edge. It was literally the choice between life and death. I felt the voices coming from my own throat; in a way, I was talking to myself; the notions being my own sentiments distilled and voiced:

"Well, we really did it this time. We killed Mother, our one supporter. Why not just be done with it?"

"Because we didn't mean to, it wasn't our fault!"

"Shut up! It was our bright idea to let that beast go anywhere near Mother's chambers. Of course we killed her! In fact, the only beast around here is us! WE DID IT! We killed the one person who loved us unconditionally, so if you'll excuse us, we need to die now."

"Stop it. We aren't going to die yet. We still have something to live for, the Dragon's Order, our Brother!"

"He's not our brother. And what kind of life is that? Living as a possessed maniac whose only drive is power?"

"It actually doesn't sound-"

I cut off then, since someone was approaching my cell. I looked over and, speak of the devil, it was Thor himself. I yearned to confess to him, cry on his shoulder like days of old, hoping against hope that he would still accept me. Instead, I heard myself speak in brutal tones:

"Thor, after all this time, and now you come to visit me; Why? Have you come to gloat; to mock?"

"Loki enough. No more illusions."

I was shocked that he could tell. But then again, he knew me better than anyone else living did, plus my mind wasn't exactly sound right now; I allowed my illusion to slip away.

"Now you see me brother."

And indeed he did, in all my bloody, disheveled glory. I couldn't help myself, I asked him:

"Did she suffer?"

He didn't answer. What should I have expected? Instead, he offered me something.

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do. And if you help me escape from Asgard I will grant it to you, vengeance; and afterwards away with this cell."

I glanced around, wanting horribly to get out and stay distracted, but I smelt something irregular about this. He never asked me for help. I forced a laugh:

"You must be truly desperate to come to me for help. What makes you think you can trust me?" His response was very quick and cold.

"I don't. And you should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exists to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you."

With some effort, I fought down tears at another blatant rejection. But outwardly, I simply smiled wanly.

"Hmm. When do we start?"

Ten minutes later, after a quick visit to our rooms, we were marching down the hallways like old times. I was grinning with fake enthusiasm; though visiting my room had done me worlds of good. It gave me a chance to re-fabricate my realities; to put my walls back up, stronger than before. This time, I promised myself, no-one would ever get in again. To put it simply, this un-expected outing had tipped the balance inside of me, and my vitality had returned full force. To outsiders, I looked downright jolly, but really, it was a front. I was focusing all my attention on the current events to try and keep the pain under control.

We continued down the hall, Thor being sullenly silent, and me making attempts at alleviating the situation's tension. Internally, my thoughts were screaming at me:

"Idiot, what in Helheim are you doing? Do you really think that pulling all these antics will cause your grieving to end?"

Thor was not amused either, he silenced me by virtue of his colossal hand clamped over my mouth, when I inquired why, he indicated a troupe of soldiers passing us on the other side of the hall. Annoyed, I asked him exasperatedly:

"You could at least furnish me with a weapon, my knife, something!" I was testing him, I already had my concealed knives.

He nodded as if in consent, and I smirked.

"At last, some sense!" My smile froze, seeing my hands, they were bound. I raised them up for him to see, Thor smiled:

"But I thought you liked tricks!"

Outwardly I brushed it off:

"You lied to me. I'm impressed." But inwardly, I was hurt; yet another harsh reminder of my broken reputation. This would take some work to fix; if I actually wanted to that is, I was still deciding that.

We walked on until we met up with Sif and Jane Foster. I introduced myself, eliciting a slap from the mortal.

"That was for New York."

Great, I thought; yet another person who judges me without listening to my side of things. Outwardly, I wouldn't dream of showing my disappointment.

"I like her." I said to Thor smiling. I then proceeded to comb through her mind until I knew everything about me that she thought she knew; if that makes any sense. As I expected, all she knew of me was that I had smashed some skyscrapers in New York for seemingly no reason. Stupid Midgardians.

At that moment, a troupe of soldiers was heard coming towards us in the hallway. Sif immediately unsheathed her weapon, ready for battle. Thor nodded to her and started in the opposite direction. I began to follow, but was stopped by cold metal to my throat.

"Betray him, and I'll kill you." I smirked, moving against Sif's sword without fear.

"It's good to see you too Sif." She removed her blade and tried to stare me down. I simply ignored her gaze and walked off grinning; she had actually noticed me. When I caught up to Thor, he and Jane were walking past Volstagg, who was guarding the Dark Elf ship, I went to follow, but was held back by his big arm.

"If you even think of betraying him," I cut him off:

"You'll… kill me? Evidently, there will be a line."

I brushed past him then, boarding the monstrous ship behind him. When I got in, Thor was hitting at random buttons confusedly. I watched him for several seconds, becoming irritated at his incompetence. Sif was most likely overpowered by now, and Volstagg couldn't take them all on for long.

"Whatever you're doing brother, I suggest you do it faster." I said impatiently.

"Shut up Loki!" He snapped back.

"Don't hit the buttons, just push them gently."

"I am pressing them gently!" He yelled, hitting all the harder in his agitation. Then suddenly, it started up, much to Thor's delight. He then proceeded to turn the huge thing around, flying out the other end of the throne room; decimating all the remaining pillars on the way out. I sighed. He really wasn't meant to be a schemer…

"I think you missed a column."

"Shut up!"

We flew out into the open, missing archways and houses by mere inches. I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"I thought you said you knew how to fly this thing."

"I said: How hard can it be?"

If my hands weren't bound, I would have pinched my nose in frustration.

"Look, why don't you let me take over, I'm clearly the better pilot."

"Is that right? Well out of the two of us, which one can actually fly?"

This silenced me for a spell. Until he swooped low and scared the living daylight out of some civilians. Then of course he couldn't resist going through narrow alleyways while he was at it. I nearly threw up. We were shot on the wing, causing the ship to lose some lift and scrape a bridge. When Thor tried to right us, he managed to smash straight into a defense turret. This of course would alert every guard in the city to our location. I was about to remark, but Thor beat me to it.

"Not a word."

I looked behind us, and saw three or so guard ships on our tail, I quickly informed Thor:

"Now they're following us."

The ship then shook violently, causing my heart to go into my mouth.

"Now they're firing at us!"

"Yes, thank you for the commentary Loki; it's not at all distracting!" I was incredulous. This was nothing short of insanity. He had no plan; I should never have gone with this idiot. We headed to an archway next, clipping our wing on a statue to the side. I groaned internally; could he do nothing without spreading general chaos?

"Well done. You just decapitated your Grandfather." I said, covering my rising panic with oozing sarcasm."

We scraped by that passage and came out, flying almost level with the Bi-frost Bridge. The stress of this situation seemed to be too much for Jane, who collapsed onto the floor. I swear my heart skipped two beats then. But, for my reputation's sake, I acted mildly curious:

"Oh dear. Is she dead?"

"Jane!?" Thor was much more frantic, almost leaving the controls. Thankfully for us all, Jane assured him:

"I'm ok." She sounded weak though. I had had enough. I stood facing Thor, confronting him angrily for taking me on this damned escape.

"What a great idea this is brother, let's steal the biggest most obvious ship in all of Asgard and use it to destroy things on our way out."

"Shut up." He tried to silence me, but I wasn't done yet.

"It's brilliant Thor! Simply Brilliant!"

"I said, shut up!"

He cut me off again, throwing me out the doorway while the ship was in full flight. For a second, I freaked. My hands were tied, stopping me from swimming. I couldn't believe he would… *Crack* I smashed into a waiting ship then, landing painfully on my back, in the same manner I had the last time I was thrown from his sight. I was sure my back wound was bleeding again. Thor and Jane soon joined us, and I heard a mocking voice behind me:

"The dungeons have left you much less graceful Loki!"

I grit my teeth; Fandral. I didn't reply, feeling sure that if I did, any scrap of goodwill I had left from Thor would dissolve. So I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, then bit harder.

The Dark Elf ship flew on above us, leading the pursuing guards on a wild goose chase. Thor turned to me then:

"Now, take us to this passage."

I smirked hollowly, my back still aching. But I did as he asked; when I touched the controls of the boat, I immediately remembered long days of freedom and started grinning openly; almost forgetting my pain. I sped us into the right direction, not getting far before we were spotted. Fandral spoke up then:

"This is farewell; good luck!" He stared long and hard at me, though I ignored him.

"For Asgard!" With that he swung over to the guard ship behind us and turned it around.

After a few minutes we had come to the mountain that held the rift between realms. I headed straight for the mountain face.

"Loki…" Thor asked what I was doing with his tone. I quickly replied:

"If it was easy, everyone would do it."

As we got close, I saw the narrow crack that we needed to enter. I sped us up to acquire the momentum we needed to not get caught between worlds.

"Are you mad?" Thor sounded really concerned now. I smirked:

"Possibly." Was my only reply, for then we catapulted through the tunnel and flew out into Muspelheim.

"Ta-daa!" I crowed triumphantly. Thor's muscles visibly relaxed.

I turned to watch as Thor made Jane comfortable while she struggled against the power of the Aether. I was slightly hurt; he hadn't even so much as asked if I was well. Which honestly, I was not. Outwardly I said:

"What I could do with the power running through those veins." Thor responded quickly and shortly; impersonally:

"It would consume you."

"She's holding up alright. For now." I cut to an issue that had been bothering me; why was he so infatuated with such a fragile being? He immediately defended her, managing to insult me at the same time:

"She's strong in ways you'd never know." That did it; I switched from curious to antagonistic. I hit him on what must be a sore point:

"Say goodbye."

"Not this day."

"This day, the next, a hundred years, it's nothing." I stood up "It's a heartbeat. You'll never be ready. The only woman whose love you prized will be snatched from you." I said this with no small amount of venom; my jealousy of Mother's attentions showing.

"And will that satisfy you?" He asked angrily, I was in no mood to be silenced, so I snapped back:

"Satisfaction's not in my nature."

"Surrender's not in mine."

"The son of Odin," He cut me off, his tone rising.

"No, not just of Odin! You think you alone loved mother? You had her tricks, but I had her trust." I was hurt; badly. What did he know?

"Trust? Was that her last expression? Trust? When you let her die!?"

"What help were you in your cell?"

"Who put me there? WHO PUT ME THERE?!"

He lunged at me then, pinning me down and raising his fist against me.

"You know damn well; you know damn well who!" After a pause he added: "She wouldn't want us to fight." He was close to tears. This brought me to my senses; I was bound, so I wasn't in the position to combat him. I put on an apologetic face, shoving my poisonous hatred aside for now.

"Well, she wouldn't exactly be shocked."

"I wish I could trust you." He said, looked at me sadly, tears in his eyes. Searching in vain for any sign of human emotion; I returned his gaze carefully, telling him the same thing I told my demons:

"Trust my rage."

Within the next few minutes, all was silent; the two of us brooding over our lost past. I summed it up easily to myself:

Miscommunication, jealousy turned to hate. So much hate, for people we love. If only we could swap places, he needed to understand what went on inside, everything else was a lie. But that would never happen; not if I could help it. I needed to disconnect completely for a while; I needed to start over, without the ties and bonds of Asgard. In a few minutes, I had figured out how. It would take a little bit of acting, but nothing I couldn't manage. At that moment, we saw the Dark elf mother ship on the horizon; Malekeith.

We stopped at the top of a hill, just out of sight, and discussed the plan; leaving Jane completely out of it, for her sake. It went something like this:

I would stab Thor and kick him down the hill; he would then try to get up, causing me to kick him to the ground again. I would speak to Malekeith, offering him Jane and Thor. Thor would then reach for his hammer, I would stop him by cutting off his hand; hopefully sealing Malekeith's trust in me. If all went well, he would take the Aether out of Jane, leaving it suspended in the air, vulnerable for a few precious seconds. In this time, I would restore Thor's hand and heal his side, allowing him to use Mjolnir to destroy the thing. After this, we would need to fight our way out of Muspelheim; Thor would try and distract the Kursed, giving me time to escape with Jane to safety. He warned me not to look back if he were to fall. I had no intention of listening though, I had other ideas. That beast had killed my mother; there was no way that I'd let him get away with killing my Broth- Thor as well. Besides, I needed my revenge on him.

"You know, this plan of yours is going to get us killed." I said.

"It very well may, but we have no other options."

I nodded, seeing his logic. I held out my bound hands to him; it would be quite impossible to do anything with the shackles. Thor looked at me skeptically.

"You still don't trust me brother?" He looked at me hard hesitated. Pleading with his eyes for my loyalty.

"Would you?" he asked of me. I looked down at Malekeith, flooding my mind with malice.

"No, I wouldn't." With that, undid my own shackles easily; I'd never actually been securely bound. Thor looked frightened, but he held out a knife to me, but it wasn't a good one, dull and ill-forged.

"No thanks, I'll use my own."

I reached down and gouged one of my concealed knives out of my skin. Thor was horrified, I nodded at him slightly, then stabbed him; not gently either. I still hated him; but I just happened to hate Malekeith even more.

Thor rolled down the hill, with me shouting out curses and laughing cruelly:

"Do you really think I ever cared? All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet." Thor reached for his hammer, and I cut off his hand at the wrist.

Hook,

I hailed Malekeith and his party, who seemed rather bewildered.

"Malekeith, I am Loki of Jotunheim, and I bring you a gift." I then thrust a frightened Jane towards him.

"All I ask in return is a good seat to watch Asgard burn."

Line,

The Kursed spoke to Malekeith then, saying in their language:

"I know this one, he is an enemy of Asgard." This made Malekeith turn to Thor as he began to draw the Aether out of Jane.

Sinker.

"Loki, now!" I reacted within the instant, restoring him his hand, allowing Mjolnir to smash into the Aether, shattering it. The resulting explosion was too violent for my comfort; I lunged towards Jane, shielding her from the brunt of it. Then we all watched in horror as the shattered pieces floated off the ground and right back into Malekeith.

Damn.

His purpose accomplished, Malekeith went on his stately way, telling his minions to "Kill them all." Figures.

Mjolnir rocketed towards his retreating figure, but the Kursed got in the way. Thor looked at me, and I knew he expected me to protect Jane and get out. But that's where I began to execute my own plans.

You see, Malekeith was mistaken; the Aether was not potent enough to darken all the realms. The worst that would happen was some havoc and mass disturbances of the peace. But he would never achieve his ultimate goal, which was to return the realms to full darkness. There simply was not enough dark matter to accomplish this. But I stayed quiet about this; it wasn't necessary for Thor to lose his drive. He'd gotten in enough trouble already; time to remove myself from his list of problems and worries. But first, avoid death; by the hands of dark elf assassins. I was of course, surrounded; Jane was a safe distance away though.

I let my senses extend, feeling rather than seeing their every move. One lunged towards me on the right, and I lashed out with a knife, slitting his throat neatly. The next came from behind; I whirled and cut his face open. The last two were running at me from the left and right. I cloned myself, and jumped back invisibly, watching them shoot themselves. I looked over to see one of the matter grenades go off near that mortal. I cursed under my breath and shoved her out of harm's way, foolishly getting myself caught in its pull. I had no time to even contemplate death though, because my wind was knocked out of me by Thor's mass crushing me under him. That wasn't expected; I hadn't done anything for him to want to save me. Nevertheless, I owed him one. My chance to repay him came very soon, since Thor went back then trying in vain to destroy that Kursed beast through head-on combat. I watched for a while, modifying my plans until I had perfected them; as Thor got pounded into the earth again and again. It was in the moment that Thor's death was seconds away that I gripped a dark elf sword and ran the beast through. That got his full attention moved to me. As expected, he was still quite alive; he turned and faced me; I braced myself for the pain that was coming. He shoved me onto the blade that protruded from his stomach; right through my heart. How fitting. With sleight of hand, I set of one of his grenades on his own back. I fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

"See you in Hel, monster."

With that, he was destroyed. And I was left to struggle with keeping myself conscious. Hold on now, just a little longer Loki. Just a little longer.

I heard Thor yell then, falling to his knees beside me. He propped me up to look at my face.

More pain.

"Fool, you didn't listen." His tone verged on panic.

"I'm a fool, I- I'm a fool. I didn't listen, I'm a fool-" I coughed up blood then, my head in a haze. Just a little longer.

"I'll tell Father what you did here today, you'll have an honorable-"

I cut him off:

"I didn't do it for him."

That was a pointed jab. This was what I wanted him to remember. Despite the hate, despite the betrayal, I still loved him. He was, and always would be my brother. And when it counted, I would support him. With that, I froze my bloodstreams, allowing them to begin healing; painfully, allowing my system to slow to where you couldn't hear a heartbeat. But I was still alive; barely. It was dangerous to do this, I was playing with hellfire, literally; but it was enough to convince him.

I heard Thor cry out in sadness, as if across miles of distance. I could see his face twist into painful tears, but it was as if I was remembering it vaguely. I felt him get up after what seemed an eternity, and leave me; for what I hoped to be forever. Or at least a long, long time.

With this move, I had completed what my subconscious had been working towards for my whole life. Every tie, every little obligation and debt to anyone in all of Asgard was severed. I was a free man, truly. No-one expected anything from me anymore; I was liberated to do whatever it was I pleased, with no remorse or fear. I could essentially re-start my life.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three: The Birth of Loki Laufeyson

I waited, delaying my journey to Hel by drawing in shallow breaths; minutes ticked by, hours. Eventually, I caused myself to slip out of Heimdell's sight, and then thawed my veins, allowing myself to sit up painfully. I wasted no time in turning myself into an Asgardian guard; time to visit the Allfather.

When I reached Asgard, I went into the healing ward and pretended to have been wounded in the invasion. The healers were all sympathy and praise at my valor. I just continued my act of suffering; in no mood to be amused by the irony of it all. I didn't let them at my back wound mind you, that would have raised way too many questions.

When I finished there, I went to report to Odin, declaring my own death. This seemed to hit him hard. Good; at least I didn't need to worry about payback then. He could suffer two losses in two days. I went to my room, permanently sealing its doors and windows by magic to anyone except me; I didn't want it to be rifled through. I proceeded to board up the windows and manually lock the doors. Once this was done, I put up a one way sound barrier. That way, no sound would escape this room, but I could hear everything happening around it. Once I felt secure in my fortress, I went into my old haunt; the Library. Going directly to the tenth floor, I pulled out The Book. For the next few days, I sat there, reading about all my predecessors, learning all their tricks, absorbing every bit of information; properly. In the end, I had gained a huge amount of knowledge. Albeit, it took me over three weeks; but it was completely worth it. I now knew just about every trick in the book, literally. I was quite pleased to see that no known criminal mastermind was ever a frost giant with telepathic abilities. This obviously gave me a huge advantage. No-one would know what to expect from me.

The first thing I would do, in my new existence was to go to that old tavern; disguised as blond Luke of course.

I walked in, making every effort to appear small. My reputation here was one of a good patron, and a bit of a patsy as far as fighting went. I always avoided brawls at any cost, so people constantly got free drinks off me. I wanted to change that; in short, I wanted to get in a fight. I walked towards my usual spot at the counter, but discovered it was occupied, by a regularly meagre patron no less; perfect. I pushed his shoulder roughly, upsetting his drink. He whirled on me angrily, but when he saw it was "Little Luke", he grinned.

"Wal Luke, you gonna pay for that?"

I ignored him, ordering him out of my seat. He was taken aback, but responded quickly:

"Naw! This is my spot today, and you ain't gonna move me!"

"Are you sure you want to do that?" I asked, edging my voice with malice. He just chuckled.

"Yup. Now pay up pipsqueak." Stupid Asgardian.

I grabbed him by the neck and threw him off his seat, knocking over a table at the same time. Then, before the Bartender could complain, I sat down and ordered a drink expensive enough to cover the cost of any damage; and I overpaid, up front, in solid gold chips. So, instead of being thrown out like anyone else, I was welcomed by the barkeep and was able to sit contentedly sipping my drink; which tasted like pure satisfaction right now. But apparently, the man didn't know when to give up. He staggered to his feet, clearly dazed, and swung at me with a shaky fist; which I neatly caught without even turning my head. That did it for him, with face beet red, he slurred out a challenge to a duel (Asgardian duels were almost always to the death, unless both parties showed exceptional valor). With no small amount of amusement, I heard the whole bar silence while waiting for me to respond. I decided to go all out:

"I accept; victor pays for drinks."

A general cheer went up throughout the tavern, and everyone stood to go outside and watch. People were even betting. I had to admit, to an outsider, my chances looked slim. My opponent was a weapon toting giant, with battle scars in every imaginable place; I on the other hand, was a small child in comparison, with a coward's reputation. But I had more skill in my little finger than he did in his whole body. So I wasn't concerned; not in the least, just excited.

When I got outside, a ring of spectators marked the duel ground, with many people cheering on the sorry drunkard; as I had thought; general inclination for the win was tilted towards my opponent. I just smirked, striding easily through the knots of spectators. I threw my cloak down, revealing my plainest clothes; which were still very rich for anyone here. Someone catcalled:

"Hey look, it's a princeling!" Mentally, I put him on my kill list, outwardly, I ignored him.

The poor excuse for a warrior dragged his sorry behind into the ring and assumed a very sloppy battle stance; armed with an aged broadsword. Meanwhile, I surveyed my battle area. No other threats were in the area, so I could focus solely on the drunkard in front of me. Even the guards, whose job it were to stop such things were joining in the betting. I was sure now of a flawless victory; so I gripped my favorite dagger, riveting my eyes on my opponent.

We circled for a little, with him feigning attacks to test my reaction. I was careful to never let my eyes leave his; I could tell if he were actually attacking before he made a move, simply by reading his eyes; so I never flinched. Then, his eyes gained a steely look, and I knew he was going to lunge; using my senses, I easily dodged his thrust. After this, it was a quick paced game. He revealed his every move; I leaped just out of his reach, causing him to get angrier each passing second. After a few minutes, he cried out in frustration:

"Stop dancing and fight ya coward!"

A few people in the audience called out their approval at this, and I decided to perform my counter-attack.

At the next lunge, I grabbed his sword by the blade, pulling him into a range he wasn't used to fighting in; which was my comfort zone. I quickly and easily shattered his sword, and then gripped his wrist, breaking that too. I jumped back then, deciding to draw it out a little longer. He was disoriented to say the least, but the pain had snapped him out of his drunken stupor. He looked at me with sharper eyes now, and for the first time, saw the danger that lurked in mine. I jumped to the left, and then, when he threw his mass into a punch at my side, I dodged behind him, grabbing both of his arms; twisting them both just a little too far, hearing two very satisfying cracks. I flipped him around to face me then, loving his pained expression. Then let him drop onto his back, placing my foot on his chest; clearly winning. I looked to the crowd then, and reading his mind, told them the following things:

"This man is unmarried at 350, the scars on his face are not from battle, but are self-inflicted for bragging rights, and he has nothing better to do with his life but lounge at the bar underpaying and picking on people, because the army and guard both rejected him as a recruit."

Then, according to custom, I asked them what I should do to the loser of the duel: Should I finish him or should I let him live? The crowd was silent for a moment, taking in my unexpected performance, but the answer afterwards was unanimous. Kill him. Some people even cried that it was too good for him to die in battle. I leaned over the man; feeling irrepressible blood thirst. Fixing my eyes on his, I drank in the fear and disbelief jumping out at me.

"P-Please, spare me. I'll never bother you no more!" I laughed low and harsh, shaking my head. Bending to the man's ear I whispered cruelly:

"I'll tell your wife that you died honourably." I had no intentions of doing so though. I'd made the entire speech up of course, telling mostly the opposite of the truth.

With that, I tore his throat out. Smirking, I watched his eyes slowly dull; loving the feel of his blood on my hand. Shivering with pleasure, I stood and shouted:

"Drinks on me!"

Any horror at the brutal murder people had just witnessed was washed away as everyone surged joyously into the Tavern, including the peacekeepers. I followed them all in, grinning ear to ear. I knew who I was: Loki Laufeyson. And nothing would get me to give a f*cking damn about what my reputation was. I was my own master now. I'd finally gotten the guts to unlock the chains holding the beast inside of me; and in doing so, I discarded any hope of ever containing it again.

But I discovered that I didn't want to anyway.


End file.
